Random Rants
by katbybee
Summary: First in a new series. This is a chance for the various residents and keepers of Stalag 13 to let off steam. No particular order and not much is sacred. You have been warned! Disclaimer: If I owned these guys, we'd be off in the Caribbean sipping Mai Tais…Enjoy!
1. Spelling

Peter Newkirk was seething. He held the stub of pencil in mid-air as he frowned at the note in front of him. He glared at Kinch. "If you don't like way I spell somethin', don't ask me to write it!"

Kinch sighed. "Well, with my arm in a cast, I can't exactly write it now, can I? And you're the only one here. So, fix it!"

Newkirk huffed, but did as directed. But the more he thought about it, the more he figured he was right. What was wrong with "rondy-voo" any way? Bloody French!"

~TBC~


	2. Stinky Cheese

Louis LeBeau was livid. "But Andre', that cheese was for our dinner!"

"Well, I'm sorry! I'm sure Felix didn't mean to eat it, but he likes cheese! And if you left it just sitting there…." He pulled Felix out of his pocket and eyed him critically. "Gee, it's funny he doesn't look like he just ate a big piece of cheese."

"The colonel called me in to ask me a question. I left for just a few minutes. What happened to the cheese?"

All of the men in the barracks suddenly affected expressions of perfect innocence.

Kinch grinned. "Well I guess Felix must have been watching you, Louis, because a moment is all it took!"

Carter protested, "But, I don't think it was Felix!"

Olsen even got in on the fun. "I suppose you could have Carter get under his bunk and get it back for you."

Foster snickered. "It couldn't have been all that big a piece if the mouse ate the whole thing that fast."

Louis pursed his lips and glared at Carter. "It was a very fine piece of cheese One of our contacts in town gave it to me. It was also very…flavorful…" He eyed his compatriots suspiciously. "And it was enough for our dinner!"

At that moment Newkirk popped up from the tunnel below and had heard LeBeau's last comment.

"You wouldn't be talkin' about that stinky ol' excuse for cheese Heimie's mum gave ya, would ya?"

"That is the cheese I mean, Pierre."

Newkirk began to laugh. "If yer lookin' for it, forget it mate. I was afraid you was plannin' on makin' us actually eat the stuff. I dropped it down the stovepipe of the guard's barracks. They ought to 'ave a lovely surprise when they go to toast their toes tonight!"

As the barracks erupted into laughter, Andrew tucked Felix back into his pocket…and Louis went in search of something different for dinner and muttering colorful invectives in French.

~TBC~


	3. Orange Juice

Orange juice. Robert Hogan woke up craving fresh-squeezed orange juice. And not just any orange juice. He wanted the orange juice from his mother's tree from home in Bridgeport, Connecticut. Not the canned stuff that came once in a blue moon in their Red Cross packages. That was not orange juice. Not as far as he was concerned.

His mother's tree was an enigma, because you were not supposed to be able to grow oranges in Connecticut. But, like many other things she did, his mother ignored convention and got the job done…and grew the best oranges Bridgeport had ever seen.

And he missed them, and her. And he wanted a glass of orange juice. Damnit.

~HH~


	4. Gone Fishin'

Hans Schultz was in a bad mood. Why, no one knew. But there was no doubt that the normally cheerful Sergeant of the Guard was in a really foul temper. He had nearly bitten Corporal Langenscheidt's head off when the latter had dropped his rifle on the way to Barracks Two. The safety was on, and no harm was done, but the dressing down the young guard received shocked him to his toes.

Roll call was conducted with surly efficiency. Langenscheidt had attempted to telegraph the message to the men not to horse around in ranks during the count. Unfortunately, Sgt. Carter was particularly obtuse that morning, and particularly mouthy as well. And Sgt. Schultz invoked a right he had never once exercised in his entire tenure as a guard at Stalag 13. Most of the men didn't even know he had this right. But he did. And he used it.

He sent Andrew Carter to the cooler for seven days. _Starting right that second._ Langenscheidt accompanied him. Hogan was too shocked to protest immediately. The men were silent…also in shock.

Klink took no notice of the proceedings, having come out slightly late. Schultz simply informed him the men were present and accounted for. Hogan frowned at Schultz. _He had lied to Klink!_ After they were dismissed, he rounded on the big guard as they headed into the barracks. "Wait just one second, Schultz. You told Klink the men were present and accounted for, including Carter."

Schultz nodded. "I did. And I did know where he was."

Hogan frowned. "What is wrong with you today? You're not acting right."

Schultz stiffened, and his eyes narrowed. "I am not acting like a guard you mean?"

"No, I mean you're not acting like yourself. Something's wrong. What is it?"

Finally, Schultz's posture eased slightly, and he sighed. "I am sorry, Colonel Hogan. I did not mean to take it out on Carter. I will see he is let out of the cooler. He is a good boy, really. It's just that he has a smart mouth, and today he made me even more angry than I was."

Hogan invited Schultz into his office and LeBeau grudgingly brought them coffee and some of the cookies they had been hoarding. A stern look from Hogan sent him scooting back out the door with a decidedly dyspeptic smile for the guard. LeBeau shut the door only slightly harder than necessary.

"What's the problem?"

"Women."

Hogan raised an eyebrow. "You're looking for a woman?"

Schultz shook his head vehemently. _"Ach, Gott im Himmel, nein!"_ I have enough trouble with the women in my life now! That is my problem, you see."

Hogan scowled, confused. "The women in your life?"

"Yes. My wife, and my daughters. My sons are away fighting in the war. My daughters are home. And they are fighting, too. With my wife. And _that_ is my problem. They fight all the time and try to get me to take sides. When I go home for a short leave, they fight. When I am here, they write letters, and they fight. They all ask my opinion. If I give it, they are angry. If I don't give it, they are angry. Colonel Hogan, I leave in two days for a two-week furlough! What am I going to do? I will be stuck at home with my wife and four daughters for two weeks!"

Hogan rubbed his chin. He could certainly understand Schultz's mood now, and he didn't blame him. Suddenly, the solution hit him. He remembered Schultz once telling him he lived near a lake. He grinned. "I solved your problem for you Schultzie!"

The big guard looked at him in awe. "You did?"

Hogan nodded. "Yep. As soon as you get home, go in and pack your fishing and camping gear. Go down to the lake and go fishing for two weeks!"

For a moment Schultz looked perplexed, and then the wheels began to turn. And then he began to laugh. A big, loud belly laugh. His eyes sparkled, and he looked very much like his old self. "Thank you, Colonel Hogan. You are a good boy!" And with that, Schultz left the barracks, shouting orders to Corporal Langenscheidt to let Andrew Carter out of the cooler immediately.

A/N: I have no clue how many children Schultz actually had… but this just seemed to fit.


End file.
